


need you by my side

by PremiumTrash



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Angst, Anxiety, Canon Compliant, Canon Divergence, Cuddling & Snuggling, Established Relationship, Fluff, Help, Injury, Kinda, Literal Sleeping Together, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Past Relationship(s), Rated M for language, Sleepy Kisses, bc fred is shot, cause those idiots realised they were wasting time and they belong together oh god ive fallen deep, i guess, past trauma, slight angst, soft, sorta?? in my mind they got back together after fred was hurt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-08
Updated: 2018-07-08
Packaged: 2019-06-06 11:52:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,056
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15194195
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PremiumTrash/pseuds/PremiumTrash
Summary: Fred needs to keep his act together. He needs to be strong for Archie, he can't show weakness, has to fight the fear.But, in the privacy of his bedroom in the dead of the eerie night, he allows the fear to creep in.





	need you by my side

**Author's Note:**

> why am i so obsessed with fredsythe send help my way p l s
> 
> ignore grammatical/spelling mistakes, which i am sure this work is riddled with, cause its 3 am and i am tired soz. probs will edit it later on. 
> 
> title bc i was listening to bruises by lewis capaldi while writing this, enjoy!

During the day, Fred can go on about busying himself. Worrying over Archie and the construction business, he can put his mind off thinking about the green eyes boring into his before the trigger was pulled and a bullet had went through him. There was no other choice though. He was protecting his son.

He can ignore the hateful eyes appearing in the forefront of his mind, pop a pill to dull the throbbing pain in his side with every breath and lose himself in going through the motions. Every day, it's waking up early to make breakfast before he inevitably drops something and wakes Archie up who races into the kitchen with concern on his face and nags at the tip of his tongue. The dark circles under his eyes make Fred's heart beat with unease and he nags back at him that maybe he's the one who should be taking better care of himself.

Then Archie is off to school and Fred—he has nothing to do, he's taking time off work to recover, so he sits at home all day, following up on any tasks he's been putting off to occupy his mind. He dozes off when he has nothing better to do and even gives in to browsing Netflix at Archie’s recommendation, choosing any movie which looks half-decent. 

But at night, right before he slips off into unconsciousness, his mind grasps onto the incident, replaying it in his mind over and over until his chest is tight with fear.

 On this particular night, it got even worse.

He felt like he could see the flash of the gun in the headlights of every car passing outside his bedroom window. He shifts uncomfortably at the moving shadows within his bedroom, tries to keep calm and tells himself it’s just his mind playing tricks on him. It's not easy though because wherever he looks, he can see a black hood and green, malicious eyes and his heart is beating faster, harder, adrenaline flooding his body. His eyes dart from one corner of the room to the other, suddenly feeling like a small, cornered animal. It makes him think he’s kind of pathetic, however he can’t help the panic and nervousness blooming in his body, starting from his trembling fingertips right down to his curled toes. Sweat beads on his forehead as he contemplates getting up and making a cup of tea to help his nerves. 

He's just about to get up and head to the kitchen when an arm wraps around his chest and holds him in place. Fred is startled for a second and then he hears FP's raspy voice, "Where are you going?" He asks sleepily.

He could probably feel the rapid rising and falling of Fred's chest under his arm and against his chest which propels him to blink his eyes open and worry to seep into his tone. "What's wrong?"

Fred takes a deep, shaky breath. "Nothing...I'm just—" He pauses, hesitates about sharing what's really on his mind. But FP is the one person in this world, right next to Archie, that he trusts fully, to support rather than judge him. "I can't stop thinking about the Black Hood." His breaths are short and staccato, his nose stinging with oncoming tears. He chokes it down, out of some misguided thought that he shouldn't be so damn weak.

FP pulls him even closer, if possible, until Fred can feel the heat of his body against his back and shoulders. He pushes Fred's hair back and leans over to press a kiss to his temple, his stubble brushing against Fred's flushed skin. "You're okay, just breathe," He whispers, hiding his face in the back of Fred's neck and pressing soft kisses to his nape. 

Fred can feel FP's chest through the thin fabric of his shirt, tries to follow the rhythm of his breathing, to calm his racing heart. Eventually, the anxiety crowding his mind eases. 

"Shh, you're okay, you're okay..." He can feel FP's lips on the skin of his neck, warm puffs of air close to his ear. Fred latches onto the arm around him as he comes down from the edge of a full-blown anxiety attack and tightens his grip around it.

"Thank you," He says, soft and exhausted. "Just...thank you." For being here.

There is a beat then, a moment that hangs in the air that feels just like old times. Fred feels compelled to open his mouth, say _I love you_ and let the nostalgia rush in. Because he remembers, even if FP doesn't, the days when the young, happy-go-lucky Fred Andrews, star baseball player and class clown would feel down. Some days when life got the best of him, when he couldn’t tamp down the sadness or frustration rising in him. And FP, he was the only one who could make him feel a little better. He was the only one that didn’t try to comfort him with bullshit words because he knew it wouldn’t work, simply cracked shitty jokes to make Fred smile again. He was the only one who knew what Fred needed. Probably still does. And that makes Fred’s heart beat a little faster—not out of fear, but out of love.

The sensation of FP’s lips stretching into a smile behind him jolts him out of his trance and makes him think that maybe FP was thinking about the same thing too. The thought of it makes him happy.

“You’re welcome.” FP says after the weighted moment passes. His voice is rough, thick with sleep and fondness. “You know you can always tell me, when…” He doesn’t know how to finish his sentence.

But Fred, he understands without him having to. “Yeah,” he replies, just as tired, “I know. Thanks.” He whispers, blinking blearily under the shine of the moonlight peering into his room.

He hears FP hum behind him, and their legs tangle under the sheets as he snuggles closer, careful of Fred’s injury. FP taps his hand on Fred’s shoulder in a slow beat, lulling him to sleep slowly, like a silent lullaby.

When his breathing evens out, FP finally tries to go back to sleep, comforted by the knowledge that Fred was okay now.

The next morning, Fred wakes up warm, safe and with a slight smile.

**Author's Note:**

> im starting a series for fredsythe and adding this to it, so please look forward to it; thanks!


End file.
